


All Those Moments

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: Head Games [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: It’s not the first time he’s said that he loves Brad. But it’s the first time he says it meaning it the way he actually feels, not as a platonic-best-friends-line-mates way; because he loves Brad, and he has loved Brad for a long, long time.





	All Those Moments

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I'll Bleed Out For You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253485) by [thewonderzebra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewonderzebra/pseuds/thewonderzebra). 



> Inspired by my own work [Not Your Fault](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962541), which was inspired by [I'll Bleed Out For You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253485/chapters/35380119). This is a companion piece to Not Your Fault, which is from Brad's perspective and has much more detail. You don't have to have read that one to understand this one for the most part (except maybe the details around Bergy's head wound to an extent).
> 
> I love these two so much. Plus Brad won the game for the Bruins last night and I wanted to write more about him anyway, even though this is in no way related to him scoring the only goal of the game. So, here we are :D

The first moment comes when he’s still unconscious… or rather, when he’s regaining consciousness.

Patrice doesn’t know that he had emergency surgery for a life-threatening head injury. He doesn’t know that he’s in a hospital bed. He doesn’t know that the game against Toronto is long over, and that it’s three days later. All he knows is the sounds of two people talking quietly, and a hand wrapped around his, rubbing his knuckles.

Later, he’ll wonder why he can’t remember seeing anything, if his eyes had just stayed closed or maybe he’d really just been hurt that bad. But after a minute or two he realizes - Marchy’s here, holding his hand and rubbing his knuckles… it feels so nice.

Patrice asks him to keep doing that, and (annoyingly) Brad immediately stops doing it so he can start shouting, way too loud, about how glad he is that Patrice is still alive. Which doesn’t make sense. Of course he’s alive, why wouldn’t he be? And then the next second, Marchy’s head comes crashing onto his shoulder and his friend is crying harder than he’s ever heard anyone cry. Nothing Brad says makes sense, something about it being his fault and he’s so sorry, he’s so fucking sorry, and it’s just that over and over again like a scratched disk skipping back when people still used CDs to listen to music.

Patrice isn’t really sure what Marchy is so upset about, but he offers forgiveness and tells Brad he loves him because it’s true and maybe it’ll help.

It’s not the first time he’s said that he loves Brad. But it’s the first time he says it meaning it the way he actually feels, not as a platonic-best-friends-line-mates way; because he loves Brad, and he has loved Brad for a long, long time.

* * *

The next moment comes when Patrice goes home. He watches Marchy bang around in his house, making sure to a T that Patrice has everything he could possibly need within easy reach (no matter how many times Patrice reminds him that his range of motion is not, in fact, restricted by this injury).

Marchy’s being loud, he’s always loud, but it’s… comforting, in a way Patrice knows he shouldn’t feel. It’s been years and in those years he’s had no reason to believe that Brad is interested in him like that, and he’s been trying to stop thinking these things but having Marchy _here in his house to take care of him_ is making him even more obsessive about it than usual.

But Patrice is so in love with him that it hurts, especially when Brad insists on just being here for the next few days because something could still happen. That’s not why it hurts. What hurts so much is that Marchy’s whole body is written with guilt, through the yelling and laughing and making jokes is an electrical wire that keeps giving shocks of _this is my fault, I let this happen, I’m to blame,_ and Patrice can’t come up with a way to convince him that it’s not true.

Really, with Marchy staying over to look after him, it’s still not hard to keep his feelings to himself. Patrice has played through so many injuries (especially the infamous punctured lung incident) and still done well. He can do this, too, no matter how bad it hurts. He’s been doing it for years, now.

* * *

The next moment comes when Marchy comes home to him, having just lost a game. Patrice can already tell, the second he walks in the door, that he’s blaming the entirety of the loss on himself, and it’s feeding into his misplaced guilt over Patrice’s injury. So, even knowing the answer, he asks Marchy to talk about what’s really bothering him.

_I thought you were going to die, Pat._

The guilt and the pain in Brad’s voice makes Patrice ache, and he wants so much to pull his friend across the couch and cuddle him so he can kiss Marchy and promise to never get hurt again. But he’s not stupid, and he’s not impulsive, so he doesn’t. Instead he just puts his hand on Brad’s arm, reminding himself and his friend both that he’s not dead and things will be fine. He’s been hurt before, but he’s always bounced back, and this is no exception.

Then Marchy is talking the way a pipe bursts and floods someone’s basement with water, all these words that he probably can’t stop himself from saying. A good deal of it is surprising - Patrice had no idea that the nurses and doctors thought they were together. He refuses to dwell on the information right now, though, because right now Brad is falling apart right in front of him and he needs to do something to help.

So Patrice grabs Marchy and hugs him, as tight as he can and knowing he’ll keep it up all night if he has to. It takes a few minutes, but Marchy finally calms down enough to say that he wishes Patrice would actually get upset with him over this, because he should’ve been punished but it hasn’t happened.

Patrice squeezes Brad even more thoroughly, a little stunned by this confession but not enough to keep him from talking. _I’m not mad at you, Marchy._ He could never be mad about this. Patrice explains, calmly and patiently, how Brad had nothing to do with it and that he should stop looking at it that way. He rubs Marchy’s back a little with his hand, because maybe it’ll help a little.

His friend finally starts to ease, at least physically, becoming a little less tense and sinking slightly against him. Patrice gently suggests that Brad talk to someone about how he’s been feeling, and thankfully he agrees, saying he’ll see Chara about it tomorrow.

Lying down a few minutes later, Patrice lets himself go limp on his side of the mattress and pretends to slip into dreams. On the inside, though, he’s thinking too hard to fall asleep, because he can kind of understand why Brad feels so guilty about the injury and he doesn’t know how to comfort his friend. Logical explanation has mostly failed… well, maybe Chara will be able to talk some sense into Marchy tomorrow morning. Patrice hopes so. Even though he’s the one who’s hurt, Brad’s the one who’s in trouble.

Patrice is finally drifting off when Marchy starts mumbling. He rolls over to look, but his friend is obviously sleeping, and he’s about to let it go when the mumbles become whimpers.

 _Marchy, Marchy, BRAD!_ Patrice ends up shouting. _Wake up._

Marchy seems to startle, moving a little and feeling around. Patrice gets the idea Marchy’s not really awake, and that theory is proven when Brad yanks Patrice over and snuggles right up to him, clinging on like he’ll fall into the mattress and disappear forever if he doesn’t. Marchy’s shivering a little and covered in sweat, but falls back asleep immediately once he’s situated.

Patrice sighs a little to the darkness and does nothing. It’s just like having a collapsed lung during playoffs; he survived that, so he’ll survive this too.

* * *

The next moment comes when they wake up in a tangle after Marchy’s nightmare. Patrice gets up so he can move his arm again, and asks what he was dreaming about. Marchy says he doesn’t remember.

Shuffling around that morning, as Brad gets ready to leave and go home, Patrice notices how beaten his friend looks. It’s like the guilt and emotional hurt has tripled overnight, and makes him feel crushed on Marchy’s behalf. How long can Marchy exist like this, mentally rebuking himself for something so completely beyond his control?

That’s why, when Brad is about to leave, Patrice grabs him for another hug. He wishes he could just keep Brad here like this until all the bad stuff goes away, until his friend is okay again, until his injury’s finally healed and they can play side-by-side and make everything the way it should be. In that moment, the words are stabbing him, desperately trying to get out, that he loves Marchy so much and would do anything to make it okay again. It’s like when children are small and get bruises, and their parents offer to kiss the bruises because it magically makes it better. That’s what Patrice wants to do. He wants to kiss Brad and make everything better again.

But he says nothing. He lets Marchy go again without saying anything except _see you soon._ Marchy looks like he’s dying a slow, horrible death right now, but still smiles at Patrice on his way out the door.

* * *

The next moment comes when Patrice is cleared to start practicing again.

He’s not allowed to scrimmage, but he can do passing drills and all that stuff, and it goes a long way to improving his daily mood. That is, until he sees how Marchy’s doing.

His best friend is obviously insomniac. Brad’s skin is pale, his eyes are dark-circled and glazed, he holds his stick looser than usual. He’s a little quieter, slower to make jokes, less talkative in the locker room. Marchy, somewhere along the line, has stopped being Marchy. Patrice doesn’t need to ask or even speculate. After Brad had clung to him a few weeks back, he knows: his friend is having nightmares and can’t sleep because somehow, the guilt is still there.

After their last practice before Patrice can return to play, he catches Marchy on their way out of the locker room and once again asks a question he already knows the answer to: _how are you sleeping? Are you still getting nightmares, Marchy?_ Cryptically, Brad says they should talk, but not right now. It’s so strange - usually his friend is very open with him about things.

* * *

The next moment is two moments, both during the game against the Islanders. Because Patrice gets shoved, but he doesn’t really fall and recovers instantly. When it happens, he’s looking in the right direction to see it in Marchy’s face the second something inside his best friend just _snaps._ And then Marchy barrels across the ice and starts beating Eberle to a pulp.

The refs can’t pry them apart, Eberle is trying to hit back but somehow just can’t land a blow, so Patrice crosses over to help. With Patrice on Brad’s left arm and Boychuk at his back, he’s finally dragged away and for no reason all the fight seems to evaporate from him. Marchy is looking back and forth between Boychuk and Patrice, mumbling something about not knowing where his helmet and stick are.

Patrice is starting to feel really scared on Marchy’s behalf. He seems almost completely out of it, very slowly gathering up his equipment from where it’s scattered across the ice and skating to the box before the refs have even had a chance to confront him. Patrice starts to follow him, if only to ask him if he’s alright, but it’ll slow everyone else down. Besides, one look at Marchy’s expression says everything. Brad is caught between flat-out exhaustion and paralyzing fear, because he must’ve seen Patrice get checked and thought the worst.

Things don’t improve from there. Marchy is stuck in the box through the start of the 3rd, and even from across the ice Patrice can tell he’s struggling to keep his head up. Patrice has never wanted a game to end sooner, because once it’s over, he’s going to drag his friend to the nearest mattress and pin Marchy down if that’s what it takes to make him get some sleep.

So of course, they can’t score, and it goes to overtime.

For some reason, it’s deemed a good idea to put Brad on the ice for the first shift of sudden death. Patrice gets the faceoff, at least, and they’re moving, trying to keep the puck and just as importantly keep the puck away from Halak. And then Marchy’s running up the ice with it, and even tired out of his wits still manages to pass it as he’s brought down. Patrice manages to catch the pass and sends it flying at the net - it goes in, right under the goalie’s elbow.

Patrice is happy about that, but it’s tainted by concern for Marchy, who obviously needs some kind of help. Still, they’re flying into each other’s arms near the opposing goal, grinning and laughing over the win. Patrice can barely register the movements as they happen, thick gloved fingers wrapping into his black jersey and yanking him closer.

The angle hurts his neck, and there’s enough of a height difference that he’d have to bend down anyway for this, and all of a sudden helmet visors are the worst thing ever because they’re making it impossible for Patrice to comfortably position himself as Brad is kissing him. Patrice doesn’t care about any of those things. He just drops his stick so he can put his arms around Marchy’s shoulders as he kisses back with everything he’s got.

All the love overwhelms and drowns the anguish he’s been having for so many years, erases his fears about Marchy’s mental health. Because there’s a short, ridiculous goofball in his arms, and it’s like their faces got glued together because neither is pulling away yet. Patrice can feel so much love between them, like it’s been there all along… it probably _has_ been there all along. He can hear their teammates starting to laugh at them, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s finally got Brad and nothing will make him let go, ever.

When they finally pull apart and breathe again, it’s because the rest of the Bruins are crowding against them, making jokes and tapping their helmets. Patrice is beyond relieved to have this out in the open, finally, and even more relieved that Marchy seems like he’ll be okay again, now. He’s still obviously sleep-deprived, but he’s not scared anymore, he’s not angry anymore, and better than that he’s no longer blaming himself. Instead, he looks soothed and in love and happy that his impulsive move has paid off.

* * *

The next moment comes the morning following the game. Patrice had driven them both to Marchy’s apartment, and Marchy had gotten home, fallen onto the bed, and immediately passed out from exhaustion. Patrice took his shoes and coat off him, then laid down and tucked them both in. Now he’s still lying there, being the big spoon and waiting for Brad to wake up.

Marchy coming back to the world fully takes a few minutes, and as they’re going into the kitchen Patrice can’t resist holding him to a wall and kissing him breathless. Life is perfect in the quiet morning, with pale winter sunlight finding its way in and the artificial mint of his boyfriend’s toothpaste. His boyfriend… Marchy is his, now. On the other hand, Patrice has always been Brad’s even if Brad didn’t know it.

They scroll through Twitter as they eat their eggs, losing count of how many times people have retweeted the same video and stills of them kissing on the ice. The camera wasn’t at a very good angle, apparently, because most of what Patrice can see is the back of his own head. There are a few assholes, of course, stating they’re ditching the team and will burn all their fan gear. Most people are surprised or happy for them. The Bruins are all taking good-natured shots in their tweets, chirping and ribbing (and especially making a big thing out of that comment about Brad being able to walk straight tomorrow).

Incredibly, there’s so much love, even from other teams’ members. As Patrice and Marchy run through the endless comments, it almost feels like the whole world is in love with them being in love.

* * *

The next moment comes at practice, their second morning together as a couple. They show up and there’s teasing, of course, but it’s all in good humor. The conversation in the locker room finally seems to be getting back to the usual stuff when DeBrusk congratulates Patrice on his goal in OT… and without missing a beat, Marchy demands to know why his team mate is hitting on his boyfriend. For a split second, everyone freezes awkwardly, until they realize Brad is kidding. It’s just Marchy being himself, he’s found a new way to be irritating, and the world is turning like always. Patrice laughs until he can’t breathe.

* * *

The next moment comes in the middle of the following season. There were other, smaller moments between then, and really this one shouldn’t be as significant as it is, because it’s happened before. Marchy gets into a fight with someone, is sent to the box, and grumbles about it later on. Patrice is never surprised by this, especially because this fight is provoked after he’s cross-checked. It’s nothing unusual.

But Patrice realizes, as they’re going home after, that Marchy is being exactly as vicious about these fights as he was the first time. In all these months, almost a year now, Brad has stopped being scared of him getting hurt and instead started getting angry that anyone dares to hurt him, which isn’t the same thing. Because Marchy loves him that much, a normal part of the sport they play is unacceptable if the refs for some reason don’t call it, it’s a huge injustice that can’t go unanswered. Patrice matters more to Brad than anything else in the world and he’s not afraid to show it, as loudly and obviously as possible and at any given chance.

Before they go to the airport for their away game, Patrice sneaks out of the house and goes to a dollar store so he can buy one of those cloth measuring tapes for sewing. He’s going to need it to measure his boyfriend's fingers.

* * *

The last moment is when they get married.

They’re dressed for the game, their families are watching wearing jerseys with the names reversed. The team is standing behind them, buzzing with excitement. And as it’s happening and he’s looking into his new husband’s eyes, Patrice can see the rest of his life - more fights and subsequent penalties, probably some injuries between the both of them. Eventually they’ll either be hurt too badly or have gotten too old to keep playing and they’ll retire, most likely not at the same time, and Patrice’s number will be put in the rafters like everyone always talks about.

Even once they don’t have hockey anymore, they’ll still have each other. Even if Brad’s number doesn’t go up alongside his, people will talk about them for decades to come - not only because they’re the first same-sex couple in the NHL but also because they had their wedding publicly on the ice at TD Garden.

All the moments have brought them here. Patrice knows that if he stops and thinks about it, there are even more moments than just the big ones he’s thinking about right now. The number of moments doesn’t matter, though. What’s important is what happened in those moments, leading them to this moment now.

Because Patrice has Brad.

And Brad has Patrice.

And that’s all that matters.


End file.
